The Financier (Hudson Kings Book 2) by Liz Maverick

Author:Liz Maverick [Maverick, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542048200
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2017-11-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

It had taken one hour for Sokolov’s suggestive little threat to screw with Nick’s mind. And that was when Dex reported that the electronic warning system attached to Nick’s security system at the penthouse was going off; when they pulled up the cams, everything was black.

All Nick could think was: Not Jane.

“Geo!” Nick clipped, confirming with a nod from Rothgar that the hit man was free.

The two of them took off at a run.

Cecily and Jane’s screaming at the top of their lungs from the living room was pretty funny once Nick satisfied himself that the back of the apartment was clear of danger; Geo was clearing the front. The men had gone in dark, just in case.

Hence the screaming. Ally didn’t make a sound, though, and when Nick whispered to Geo via his earpiece that he was turning the lights back on, there Ally was standing—well, swaying—in front of the hit man, drunk and determined to look, well, like Ally always looked. Brave and disapproving of Hudson Kings business.

Objectively speaking, Geo was a hell of a sight when he was geared up in black, packing heat, and rocking night vision. “The alarm went off at HQ. Someone covered the cam.” His voice was so low it was obvious he was calibrating it to be too low for microphones.

In one hand, he kept a loose grip on a gun with a long silencer; in the other, he was holding up a gray utility cloth smeared with crimson lipstick. He looked at Ally. “Everything here kosher?”

“Couldn’t you hear us talking through the camera?” Ally sassed.

“Everything kosher?” he clipped again, not answering the question.

She stared at him. “Like a babka from Zabar’s, Geo.”

He walked right up to her and put his arms around her, like a hug, and whispered something into her ear. Ally stared straight over his shoulder like a zombie, but she lifted her hand and gave his arm two squeezes. He let go of her, scanned the boozy, lobster roll–riddled detritus from the party, and then looked back at Nick.

“Mr. Dawes,” Jane said, from her place on the couch, where she was sitting bolt upright. “Um . . .” She looked spooked, nervous, and totally disheveled, with her black curls popping all over the place and most of her makeup wiped off on what looked to be a napkin sporting a happy lobster design.

Nick thought she looked wonderful. And he was beyond relieved to confirm that it was just a false alarm.

For a second there—for a really bad fucking second there—he thought maybe Sokolov had moved Jane into collateral damage territory. It was all the more reason to keep his hands off her—at least until he was out of the woods.

I can’t have Sokolov thinking I care. I can’t take the chance. And then, of course, even as he told himself to stay away, he walked away from the others and went directly toward her.

“Do I have something on my face?” Jane asked.

“Your face is perfect,” Nick said.

A couple of different emotions flashed over said face—pleasure, confusion .

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